


Homecoming

by Leyenn



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Dream Sex, Dreams, F/M, Porn Battle, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deanna has a dream. Written for the Porn Battle XII, <i>reunion</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

She's dreaming of something utterly mundane: sitting in her office which looks nothing like her office even though she knows it is, in that bizarre but perfectly normal strangeness of a dream. In the dream she's sitting with Reg Barclay, and she knows it's a dream and not reality because they're having a perfectly normal counselling session in which he's actually sitting and listening and talking, and isn't stuck in that constant loop of embarrassment, nervousness, attraction, embarrassment, nervousness, escape that takes up most of their sessions.

She has a lot of sessions with Barclay, so dreaming about one isn't exactly unusual. If anything, these types of dreams are a nice escape from the headache-inducing weirdness of actually trying to work with the man.

She's listening to him explain his work with Julia Bartel on the aft sensor overhaul - the reality of which involved a lot more stuttering and pacing and refusing to look her in the eyes before eventually racing from the room - when the dream changes direction in an odd but definitely not unpleasant way.

Will's arms slide around her waist from behind and he presses a light kiss into her hair, warm and tender. Barclay keeps talking as if he doesn't even notice another man suddenly in the room; she tunes him out and leans back into Will's arms instead, because she's been missing him badly and she's happy to go wherever her subconscious wants to take her, if it involves this.

And then Will's fingers splay lightly across her stomach and he groans in her ear, sounding surprised and a little frustrated. "Oh, hell, _Deanna_..."

She lifts one hand to cover his. He feels warm and solid against her back, familiar and real enough that she pulls his arms tighter around her. He groans again, resting his forehead against her temple. She can feel his breath quicken in her ear, hot and erotic.

"Mmmm." She presses his hand harder against her - and feels him wince, very slightly, even as his arousal leaps up like a flame against her mind. She frowns - she knows every one of Will's emotions intimately, but she doesn't know why she would dream that he _doesn't_ want her -

And then he growls and pulls her back against him, and she smiles and it doesn't matter, because there's no doubt that he does, in fact, want her, quite badly.

His hand drifts down across the fabric of her dress, slow, hesitant; too slow, for her liking. She strokes the back of his hand, runs her fingers up to his wrist and tries to guide him down where she wants him to touch her - and it's been long enough that she very much wants him to touch her...

Her dream version of Reg is still rambling on about sensor frequencies as if they're not even there. In contrast, her dream version of Will sighs her name softly again. "Deanna..."

She gathers her skirt up out of the way as she spreads her thighs wider, pushing his hand down. "Oh, god," he murmurs, and there's an unsteady shake to his voice even if he doesn't move his hand away. "I shouldn't be doing this..."

She smiles, pressing into his hand, and is glad she has enough control over her own subconscious to wipe the image of Barclay out of the equation. "Oh, yes, you should."

Will doesn't answer; he doesn't even seem as if he's heard her, but he doesn't stop, either, and she hums with pleasure as his fingers slide easily into her. Even in a dream he knows just how to touch her, just how gentle and firm to be, where to press inside her that makes her moan softly, relishing the feeling.

Will's answering groan is sudden and deep and more than a little desperate; she moans again as he slips his fingers out, and then he pulls her backward even further, into his lap, gathers her skirt up higher and then he's pushing into her, hard and slow and just right, and she closes her eyes because he feels so good, _so_ good it's exactly what she needs, what she's needed for _days_.

He buries his face in her hair, gasps, murmurs, "Oh, god," again, louder, and this time it's a tone filled entirely with surrender as he tightens one hand around her waist - as if he's trying to hold her still - and gently finds her clit with the other.

She gasps, her eyes sliding closed as she melts back against him. " _Oh_..." His fingers are still wet and warm from being inside her, and that only makes it better. It feels so much more than good now, so much more, so - it's all so real, his fingers on her clit and his cock inside her and the way he's starting to move and it shouldn't work this way at this angle but it can in a dream, in a dream she can have whatever she wants of him -

"Open your eyes," he whispers in her ear, and she frowns, not understanding, hardly even paying attention.

"Mmm...?"

He slows his fingers on her clit, makes her shudder and arch into his touch, wanting more; his voice is soft but commanding, needing and honest. "Open your eyes, I want you here."

She sighs and opens her eyes, sleepily -

\- and feels him, real and hot and naked and wrapped around her, _inside_ her, and for a moment she can't catch her breath, realising. "Oh..." _Will..._

He murmurs, "Hey," softly in her ear as he moves again, just a slow thrust in and out, matching speed with the light circles he's drawing around her clit that suddenly feel even better, awake. He doesn't say anything ridiculous like _I'm sorry_ or even the truth, _I couldn't help myself, you looked so gorgeous, I've missed you so much_ \- but she knows all of that, anyway. She's sleeping naked in his bed, after all: he's not the only one who feels that way.

She smiles hazily and reaches back to touch him in return, wraps her fingers around the back of his thigh to pull him into her again. "Mmmm..." _When did you get back?_

"Four hours ago." He obliges her with another long, slow rock of his hips. "Debriefing was hell."

"Oh?" Another thrust and she gasps, caught by how good it's starting to feel as her body wakes up and puts the sensations together. " _Oh_..."

Will chuckles knowingly in her ear. "Boring. I still didn't understand most of it." He strokes her stomach, kisses her neck, his breath hot and his beard scratching lightly against her skin, a desperation slipping into his voice for just a moment as he pushes into her again. "And you were so close..."

She can't blame him. After three weeks, if he'd been the one asleep when she beamed back on board, she wouldn't have had the restraint to wait out a debriefing before slipping inside his mind.

"I-" Her voice catches again and she gasps softly as he slides in deeper, and if there's a better way to be woken up in the middle of the night, she can't think of it. "Oh... mmm, I thought I was dreaming."

He grins into her neck. "Sorry."

She laughs under her breath. "Are you, really?"

Will nibbles at her earlobe, his voice a low, laughing growl in return as he starts to move a little faster. "Hell no." She can feel him starting to lose control, and there's a sudden, concerned thought she doesn't quite catch but that makes him ask, slightly breathless, "Are you - is this okay, do you want-"

 _Shhh._ Will is the only person she's ever known who can make being considerate so incredibly erotic that it doesn't really matter what her answer is. "Just don't stop," is all she says, a little breathless herself, and Will kisses her ear.

"Mmm, don't worry about that." Faster now and he groans, without trying to be quiet this time, and the depth of his need and pleasure and relief at being home washes over her. "Imzadi... I missed you, I couldn't stop thinking about you..."

"Don't stop," she whispers, because that's suddenly all she can think, because it feels - _he_ feels so good, _so_ good - "Don't stop, Will, please..." In a dream or out of it Will knows exactly how to touch her, how fast and how hard, how far he needs to push to make her come -

He gasps when she does, as she clenches tight around him, growls out another soft, "Oh, _god_ ," and then he's coming, too, quick and hard and beautiful, a second hot white burst of pleasure in her head even before she comes down from her own. He collapses onto her, spent and breathing hard against the back of her neck, his voice breaking around her name. "Deanna..."

She smiles, reaches down and threads her fingers back between his before he can try and move. "I missed you, too."

He settles at that, lets his weight rest against her back and nuzzles her hair; she can feel him relaxing, inside and out, as if he hasn't for weeks. "Next time anything needs any ridiculously complicated field testing, I'm sending someone else to supervise."

She laughs sleepily, closing her eyes. "Mm. Good." Maybe if they're both lucky, she'll go back to that dream again.

  


*

  



End file.
